A Scratch
by Youkomon
Summary: Even when we suffer a scratch, we still try to cover up the wound. A young Eva has an interesting and almost one-sided conversation with her mother...one that she cannot fully understand...


I...don't really like this. A lot of my better Oban stuff is short, to-the-point and contains various AU situations. This fic is just me experimenting with portents and so forth. And being too lazy to be original. Oo

* * *

Brown eyes glanced up and ran over the shoreline eagerly, drinking in the keen pull of the wind and the hunger of the tide. A giggle flexed its way out of the child's mouth as her vision began plucking out things of interest, grasping at torn out strips of wood and metal, age-worn survivors of crashes at sea. The crust that governed their edge was all that remained to gleam a reminder of the watered-out cries of their former passengers.

It wasn't exactly a picturesque scene. Pretty, yes. But neatly boxed in along the lines of a postcard? No. And as for being beautiful…well, that was merely subjective.

Because beauty is only skin deep.

Eva shivered, fingers already bruised by sand. She was too young to really understand such dark concepts. Crashing metal and splintered wood existed in a world far from her happy life…and as long as she had time to play, there was nothing left to jab at her about the ultimate endings of all.

A scuttle of red caught her eye and a figure of eight blundered out into her memory as some hinged legs started dragging a curved shell towards the ocean. Eva rolled the concept around in her mind, experiencing a brief flash of colour in her living room, mother's arms nestled against her stomach and a large picture book stretched out in front of her.

"Learning to read is important Eva."

She smiled. Yes, Daddy, read a lot of books because he was clever, piled up behind his papers on a Sunday afternoon, chequered slippers hovering at the ends of his toes. That was the day when roast beef would drift through the house; Daddy would always cook. Mummy said it was a man's job.

Besides, Eva didn't much fancy her potatoes blue.

Curiosity now gripping her, she crawled forwards, fingers grasping through the air until they wrapped around the cylindrical spiral. Beaming, Eva cradled her precious cargo against her chest and bundled herself forwards through the sand.

"Mummy, mummy! Look what I found!"

A pink-haired woman lifted her head at the call, hands twitching slightly as they released a new fashion magazine.

"Eva?"

"Mummy!"

In her excitement, Eva thrust her arms out wide, tendons shooting out to their limits as she bowled into the waiting lap, flinching only when a squeal ripped out into the air. Glancing up, her face creased into a frown as she saw red pincers failing wildly against her mother's new belt.

Gravity strained against the shell-bound creature for a few vital beats before it sailed off into a gentle palm encased with a world-renounced racing glove. Eva grinned as she saw the knowing chuckle on her mother's face. It gleamed out mischievously, sparkling in the same fashion Eva herself would learn to initiate in the years to come.

"Hey there…"

The elder of the two inclined her head and raised the rattled animal up to eye level, her lips barely breathing over it.

"That's a nice hermit crab you found there."

Her daughter cocked her head to one side intuitively.

"Her…mit?"

Her mother issued a bubble of laughter and nodded.

"That's right…this little fella is just a crusty old guy who lives all by himself!"

Her face softened a little as a whimsical expression crossed over into her eyes.

"I hope that never happens to anyone I know…" she muttered.

Her dark-eyed child shuddered a little, feeling a trickle of ice descend rapidly upon her feelings.

"Mummy?"

But her mother refused to respond, just looking, looking at those same red legs that quickly pulled themselves into the weather-beaten shell in fright.

The woman smiled suddenly.

"Looked at how frightened he is to be given such attention by another person…he immediately withdraws into himself and hides away…" she mused out loud.

Eva folded her arms and her cheeks puffed out angrily.

"Why's it a boy crab? Why can't it be a **_girl_** crab?"

He mother looked surprised before bursting out laughing, unintended letting the crustation shake lightly in her hand.

"I dunno…maybe because it makes people sadder to think that a girl could act this way compared to a boy…"

She flashed a grin at Eva.

"Forgive me for my sexist thinking, darling!"

Her little girl let her hands fall to her sides gently entangle themselves with the fold of her summer dress.

"I don't understand Mummy…"

The taller one let out a knowing smile.

"Maybe you won't have to. Maybe you'll be as lucky as I was."

She turned her gaze to the sea, gaze wavering in something similar to trepidation in their unwavering brown.

"Yes…so lucky…"

Eva kept her clench firm and steady, eyes tracing the strange expression on her mother's face and for once not seeing the beauty that usually shone there.

I can see the cracks.

"Ow!"

Eva gasped at the speck of red that flung itself down onto the sand and simply hung there like a buoy.

"Mummy!"

A flash of rounded orange sailed past her head and crashed into a pillar of sand, spindly legs waving around like clockwork. Like a pre-programmed fear.

The crab was forgotten however as Eva ran up to her mother, ogling the glaring paste of pink and red shining through her mother's glove. The pink-haired woman was eyeing them a little sadly, watching a crimson shot of sparkling pain drift out through the fabric and almost ignoring her daughter's alarmed shouts.

Her other hand fumbled through the air until it caught a tuff of unruly black air and pushed in down firmly in a harsh moment of comfort.

"It's alright darling, it's alright…it's just a scratch…"

You even hide your hands away.

The pilot frowned, wrinkles penetrating her face and malforming it into something spectacular and fierce. Her gloves kept her hands soft and perfect for the media. They kept them soft and tender enough to tuck her sweet baby daughter in at night.

"I'm just going to get a plaster from Daddy sweetie."

Eva's face untensed, relief working its way across.

"Yeah, Daddy always makes everything better!"

"Of course", murmured the bleeding woman, her slim shadow already trailing its way along the rising sand.

She paused, tilting her head back towards the spoilt scene.

"I think we'll be heading back soon, okay?"

Eva faltered.

"Awwww…"

She directed the crab a look of malice before sighing and running her hands through the tiny black pebbles near her feet.

Maya smiled, feeling the sensation of heaven lift her scalp slightly and breathe there quietly. She love the feel of the evenings. She loved her husband. And she even felt love for the tiny thing that had threatened to stain her perfect figure.

Yes. They were perfect. And she was the flimsy strip of a mask they all had to share.

Until they were forced to build their own.

  



End file.
